Mistypes and Magic
by BlueRoseUK
Summary: The common mistakes and mistypes of HP fanon explored in drabble form. Not to be taken seriously! Suggestions welcomed.
1. Voldermort

Voldermort.

Harry shook his head, who would have thought lousy spelling would be enough to finally have Ron, and soon enough most of Gryffindor, saying the dreaded name?

Ah well, an extra 'r' wasn't hurting anybody, and personally Harry quite liked seeing the half aborted flinch whenever Snape heard one of the students use the almost-he-who-must-not-be-named name.

A.N.

I fashioned him a new name...

I've been working too hard and I think my brain imploded, a few of these may be the result.

Driven mad by the frustratingly common mistypes or mistakes you see in lots of stories? Suggestions welcome...


	2. Return to sender

Return to sender...

Harry unfastened the envelope and examined the unfamiliar writing. He briefly wondered whether it was wise to open a mystery letter without any ideas of either the contents or the sender, but dismissed the thought. Hermione was on hand, after all. There were even a few teachers somewhere around, if worse came to worst.

He unfolded the parchment, relieved that nothing horrible immediately happened. Harry scanned the contents and looked up, his brows pulling together. "You've delivered this wrong," he informed the owl. "It's not for me."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione answered (the owl simply ignored him, examining the breakfast table for unguarded bacon scraps. She'd be out of luck if Ron and Seamus kept going).

"This letter isn't addressed to me, the owl delivered it wrong."

"Nah," Ron spoke through a mouthful of scrambled egg, swallowing hastily at Hermione's disapproving glare. "Can't, mate. Owls follow a magical signature don't they?"

Harry shrugged; it wasn't like they'd covered anything about the wizarding postal system in class. Though come to think of it, it would be handy if they did. Galleon conversion rates, cooking and cleaning with charms, and whether there was a magical NHS or wizarding taxes would actually be quite helpful information. Heck, magical first aid would be a good start, or how to summon an auror in an emergency.

'Back on track, Potter,' Harry told himself, maybe they'd cover that next year. "Well, it's not my name at the top."

Hermione looked intrigued, Ron vaguely curious. "Who does it say then?"

"Don't think I know them. D'you know anyone called 'Adonis'?"

Hermione spluttered with laughter, drawing more attention to their part of the breakfast table. "What else does it say Harry?"

"Umm... something about burning... and withering... I think maybe someone's threatening this Adonis person."

"Adonis is you Harry," Hermione told him, sighing loudly enough to ensure that now everyone at the Gryffindor table was listening in. "It comes from Greek mythology, but essentially someone is calling you extremely good looking."

Harry looked taken aback, not helped by the vicious elbow that was intended as a gentle nudge from Ron, "what? This scrawny bugger?"

The twins chose this moment to add to the confusion, grabbing Ron and yanking him off the bench. "This scrawny bugger, he says..."

"... that _Adonis _is our star seeker..."

"... a vision of sleek, lithe beauty..."

"... and a God, Greek or otherwise, on a broom."

Harry uncomfortably wished that he had never opened the letter, or that his friends had the ability to speak quietly. "I don't know, Hermione. If someone's calling me Adonis, why are they sending me threatening letters?"

"Oh, let me see that, Harry." Hermione grabbed the letter out of his hands. "Harry..." she sighed again. "It's not a threat, it's a love letter."

Harry was sure that everyone at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables would be listening in by this point and his ears burnt in embarrassment. "What?! No, 'Mione, it said about someone being burnt and dying and about seeing me wither; that's like saying they want to watch me die, isn't it?"

Hermione thrust the letter towards him.

"Harry, it says, 'I burn for your touch, I pine for a look, I perish for your smile.' And the other part, the bit that goes, 'I want to see you wither on a bed, your body flushed...'"

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Hermione stopped reading, thank Merlin.

"Anyway, I think they just misspelt writhe. They want to see you _writhing_ on a bed..."

"Yes, thank you Hermione, I think we all got that. So, not a death threat?"

"Nope, just a badly written love letter."

The throat clearing and sniggering was almost, but not quite, enough to mask the red flush that had risen in Ginny's cheeks and her sudden and speedy exit from the hall.

**A.N.**

Sorry Ginny...


	3. Be afraid

Be afraid...

Ginny narrowed her eyes viciously, and Neville leant in to mutter in a not quite quiet enough voice, "I'd be wary of that one, Harry. If looks could kill..."

Seamus looked up, puzzled and a little concerned. "Not sleeping again? More nightmares, Harry?"

Neville and Harry returned his confusion with a little extra, but luckily (as always) Hermione was on hand to solve the problem.

"Wary, not weary, Seamus. Neville means that Harry should think very carefully before annoying Ginny, not that he's overtired." She shot a quick look at the youngest Weasley. "And I think Neville's got a point."

Seamus made a slight face, but nodded, turning back to his dinner.

A.N.

Umm... I do actually like Ginny, but that doesn't seem to be coming out so far...

**Additional A.N.**

Umm... It's been brought to my attention (thank you Teufel1987) that this pronunciation may be specific to where I live. With a little investigation I've discovered that the rest of the world apparently pronounces 'weary' as 'weery'. So, apologies. On the other hand, if this made sense to you then we could well be neighbours!

On a different note... I've finished my course, which hopefully means more writing for fun and less writing to avoid doing actual work. Have passed, just waiting on independent moderators.


	4. All grown up?

**A.N.** Please see previous chapter for a pronunciation apology!

_Warning: This drabble contains references to attraction and some very mild words that you wouldn't find in a U Rated Disney flick... But no actual 'cover your eyes' moments._

All Grown Up?

- Sunday Afternoon -

"Aahh! So cute!"

"Oh My God, I know! Did you see where..."

Lavender and Parvati had their heads close together, as was normal for a weekend in the common room. The giggling and whispering was all pretty standard as well, but Harry couldn't help but feel that it seemed to be more directed at him than usual. Hermione was always quick to let Harry and Ron know that they weren't exactly the sharpest tools in the box when it came to emotions, or, well, most things, really... Even Harry could admit that he could be pretty oblivious sometimes. For example, he'd taken an embarrassingly long time to realise why Ginny was so shy and quiet around him when they were younger.

But even Harry was picking up on the way that Lavender and Parvati were acting. The gossiping girls rarely caught his attention, but he felt _watched_ by them this weekend. Their whispers seemed to follow him through the common room. Their giggles practically echoed up the stairs to his dorm room. Shaking his head, Harry gave up on understanding the mysteries of girls and convinced his dorm mates to go flying instead.

- Monday morning –

Parvati and Lavender's whispering, giggling disease had spread! It was first year and the discovery of his unappreciated fame all over again, and Harry found that he liked it just as much now as he had back then. The number of girls in school seemed to have tripled overnight and all of them (younger, older, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw) seemed to be slyly watching and whispering and giggling about Harry. He had raced into the nearest bathroom after his first lesson, convinced that Seamus had stuck something to his back or that the twins had charmed his hair pink, but nothing! He looked the same as ever, and he couldn't think of a single reason that half of Hogwarts should be talking about him and laughing in _that way_ that girls did. Hermione was the only one who seemed to be immune; he desperately hoped his curly-haired friend could help him figure out what was going on.

By lunch Harry was desperate, Hermione had spent the previous lesson in Ancient Runes, so he hadn't been able to ask her anything. Now, before she escaped to the library, was his chance. "'Mione? Have you noticed anything different?"

"About what Harry?" She barely glanced up from her intent reading of the charms textbook.

"Umm... Me? Or, you know, something?" Harry knew that he lacked eloquence sometimes, but that was pathetic, even for him. "I mean, that people... Well, is there a rumour I should know about? People are laughing at me, and watching me, all the time. It's weird!"

"Not people, Harry. _Girls_. It's the girls, they've been giggling at you all day. Even Katie's doing it." Fred gestured up the table. It was true. Katie had her hand raised to hide her lips, talking quietly to her neighbour. She giggled when Harry caugh her eye, and looked away like a shy first year. Katie, who had trained with him since his first time out as a scrawny little eleven year old seeker.

Hermione watched this, a look of slight confusion on her face, and she slowly closed the book. "Hmm. I see what you mean, Harry. When did this start?"

"I don't know, yesterday? It's worse today though."

"And you haven't done anything?"

"No."

"Changed your deodorant? Used a new grooming charm?" Harry shook his head. "Nothing different?"

"No, nothing! Class, flying" (a light flurry of whispers, Katie sighed) "a bit of homework" (a scolding frown from Hermione at the admission it wasn't completed) "played chess with Ron, argued with Malfoy, life as usual."

A storm of whispers and giggles arose as the name Malfoy crossed his lips and Dean snorted in laughter as the words "sexual tension" rose above the general babble.

Harry choked.

Hermione looked around. It really was all the girls; even Madam Hooch was whispering into Madam Pomfrey's ear. A few boys were at it as well, notably Colin Creevy and Blaise Zabini. "I've got no idea, Harry," she admitted. Harry looked crestfallen at the news and another round of "Aah's" swept the room.

Another snort of laughter came from Dean, who suddenly grabbed the magazine that Demelza Robbins had been sharing with a giggling friend. "In the news again, Harry!" Dean laughed, sliding the magazine towards the mystified boy.

Harry grabbed the copy of _Witch Weekly_ only to see himself blushingly depicted on the front page. Annoyed already, he paged through to the article.

_Hottie Harry Potter... with his androgynous sex appeal, the lean build of a pre-teen and the compelling animal magnetism of a veela... his innocent aura... his wide emerald green eyes, his sexily tousled black locks... his womanly figure and slim hips... a delicate, ethereal beauty... _

Harry choked back bile as he read the gushing words. "What?! This is really... they talk about me like I'm a tiny child one second and then the next sentence... Oh, gross! What the hell does 'sexy chibi' mean? You know what, please don't tell me."

Sod lessons. Harry dropped the magazine and headed back to his dorms for a really, really hot shower.

A.N.

NOT ACTUALLY A MISTYPE – BUT A FANON TYPE THAT DRIVES ME BARMY!

Because no teen should even semi-realistically be described as looking like a ten year old. Look at some real ten year old boys, people. Would you call them sexy? Just, no.

Hope this was okay with a mild rating? If you disagree please let me know (nicely, by preference) and if you had any advice on how to change story ratings or edit chapters once posted then that would be handy!


	5. Veni, vidi, vici

Veni, vidi, vici

Lockheart smiled toothily at his audience – sorry, class – and spoke with his usual innate eloquence. "I'm very impressed by your efforts this week. It was clear from your homework who has been keeping up with their reading," he smiled around the room. "Some of our more dedicated students even went further with background reading and research."

Hermione's cheeks pinked slightly. Professor Lockheart had noticed her extra effort to research the spells he had used! Finally, a teacher recognizing, praising her hard work and thorough research...

"Miss Brown, it's clear you have read every copy of _Witch Weekly_ and even the lesser circulated _Teen Witch_; I'm impressed. As a reward I thought I would share your essay with the class." With a swish of his wand and a quietly muttered incantation – a quiet whisper was almost the same as silent casting, after all – a rounded, girlish script in Lavender's signature purple ink floated across the walls. Lockheart read the essay aloud, drawing attention to the key parts (quotations of his own speeches to the fearsome creatures he had faced, references to the gratitude of various localities, a particularly good description of his favourite outfit. He knew that he read well; he had his audience on the edge of their seats by the end, his skill tempering the deficiencies of teenage scribbling. Lockheart hushed his voice dramatically for the last line, "for after all, good will always concur evil."

Hermione choked and read the final line of the essay again, her stupefied gaze switching between the coyly blushing Lavender and the preening professor.

**_A.N._**

_So, I'm trying to write more of Oliver Wood's perspective, but I was reading someone else's story and this popped into my mind! Which is a shame, because I'm fairly certain only I enjoy this... _

_Just in case, 'Veni, vidi, vici' means 'I came, I saw, I conquered', but you all knew that!_


End file.
